Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Augusta Jane Evans - St Elmo (2 - Religion and Sexuality)

Augusta Evans' intention in writing her novel was clearly didactic. She intended to instruct as well as to entertain. The instruction is derived from the story of the tribulations which Edna undergoes but which leave her faith unshaken, from the bringing of St. Elmo back to Christianity (as discussed previously) and from Edna's own writings, which, like Augusta Evans' own, are highly didactic in nature, though mixed with an element of entertainment. Here are Edna's thoughts on authorship:

To write [...] for the mere pastime of author and readers, without aiming to inculcate some regenerative principle, or to photograph some valuable phase of protean truth, was in her estimation ignoble; for her high standard demanded that all books should be to a certain extent didactic, wandering like evangels among the people, and making some man, woman, or child happier, or wiser, or better--more patient or more hopeful--by their utterances. Believing that every earnest author's mind should prove a mint, where all valuable ores are collected from the rich veins of a universe--are cautiously coined, and thence munificently circulated--she applied herself diligently to the task of gathering, from various sources the data required for her projected work: a vindication of the unity of mythologies.

Edna's plan for her first novel is criticised by the influential Mr Manning, the editor of a magazine which has published a couple of Edna's essays:

" [...] Unless I totally misunderstand your views, you indulge in the rather extraordinary belief that all works of fiction should be eminently didactic, and inculcate not only sound morality but scientific theories. Herein, permit me to say, you entirely misapprehend the spirit of the age. People read novels merely to be amused, not educated; and they will not tolerate technicalities and abstract speculation in lieu of exciting plots and melodramatic denouements. Persons who desire to learn something of astronomy, geology, chemistry, philology, etc., never think of finding what they require in the pages of a novel, but apply at once to the text-books of the respective sciences, and would as soon hunt for a lover's sentimental dialogue in Newton's 'Principia,' or spicy small-talk in Kant's 'Critique,' as expect an epitome of modern science in a work of fiction."

"But, sir, how many habitual novel readers do you suppose will educate themselves thoroughly from the text-books to which you refer?"

Edna's reply is, I suspect, one which Evans herself would have given since she integrated discussions about science, religion and the role of women into her novel. Edna's first novel is intended to 'tear the veil from oracles and sibyls, and show the world that the true, good and beautiful of all theogonies and cosmogonies, of every system of religion that had waxed and waned since the gray dawn of time, could be traced to Moses and to Jesus' and the analysis of world religions is mixed with fiction:

To avoid anachronisms, she endeavored to treat the religions of the world in their chronologic sequence, and resorted to the expedient of introducing pagan personages. A fair young priestess of the temple of Neith, in the sacred city of Sais--where people of all climes collected to witness the festival of lamps-- becoming skeptical of the miraculous attributes of the statues she had been trained to serve and worship, and impelled by an earnest love of truth to seek a faith that would satisfy her reason and purify her heart, is induced to question minutely the religious tenets of travellers who visited the temple, and thus familiarized herself with all existing creeds and hierarchies. The lore so carefully garnered is finally analyzed, classified, and inscribed on papyrus.

Taking non-Christian texts and finding in them a prefiguring of Christian motifs and teachings is hardly a new endeavour on Edna's part. Very early in the history of Christianity typology emerged as a means by which to interpret the Old Testament and

Saint Augustine further enriched this complex and amazing system of thought by including non-sacred history. The history of Rome, the history of Greece, the history of Egypt, and the history of Persia, all these are also speeches by God. What is the spiritual meaning of these histories? That's right: the life and teachings of Christ. So: Coriolanus besieges Rome for three days. What's the spiritual meaning? Christ in the tomb for three days. (Hooker: 1996)

In addition to studying history,

The Church Fathers emphasized the universal presence of the Logos, the Word, the principle of divine self-manifestation, in all religions and cultures. The Logos is present everywhere, like the seed on the land, and this presence is a preparation for the central appearance of the Logos in a historical person, the Christ. In the light of these ideas Augustine could say that the true religion had existed always and was called Christian only after the appearance of the Christ. (Tillich 1963: Chapter 2)

and

People like Erasmus, the Christian humanist, or Zwingli, the Protestant Reformer, acknowledged the work of the Divine Spirit beyond the boundaries of the Christian Church. The Socinians, predecessors of the Unitarians and of much liberal Protestant theology, taught a universal revelation in all periods. The leaders of the Enlightenment, Locke, Hume, and Kant, measured Christianity by its reasonableness and judged all other religions by the same criterion. They wanted to remain Christians, but on a universalist, all-inclusive basis. These ideas inspired a large group of Protestant theologians in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. (Tillich 1963: Chapter 2)

According to Wayne Jackson, 'this field of study [Biblical typology] has fallen into disrepute in recent years and this can probably be accounted for' partly because 'the extravagant speculations of earlier typologists have left a bad taste for the study in the minds of many; they feel it has been discredited'. Edna's scheme is more akin to Augustine's and while in her view the similarities between the various world religions suggests that they point towards Christianity, the revealed truth, her speculations could equally well be used to support very different arguments, such as (1) if religions which have been discredited shared some beliefs with Christianity, perhaps there is equally little truth in Christianity, for example 'Some critics of Christianity teach that the Christian religion was not based upon divine revelation but that it borrowed from pagan sources, Mithra being one of them' (Christian Apologetics & Research Ministry), or (2) it could be argued that the similarities between religions suggest that perhaps there is no single way to God, but rather that all religions share insights into the Truth. However neither Edna nor Evans seem to consider these possible alternative interpretations.

One of the tensions created in the novel by Evans' merging of the didactic and the entertaining results from the way in which the marriage plot is combined with a need to redeem the sinful St. Elmo. Edna is clearly extremely sexually attracted to him, and although their physical relationship never progresses in the course of the novel beyond passionate kisses and embraces which, in general, are forced on Edna by the passionate St. Elmo, there is a great deal of sexual tension. Perhaps other modern readers won't agree with me on that point, but it seems to me that it would certainly have been felt by contemporary readers of St. Elmo. Without it, Edna's continuing refusal to succumb to St. Elmo would have little merit, and it is, in fact, presented as a struggle of immense proportions. She turns down a number of other suitors with little difficulty but St. Elmo, with his 'mesmeric eyes' is a rather different matter and I am sure that Evans Wilson intended readers to sympathise with Edna's dilemma as she makes her agonising choice not to become St. Elmo's wife, even though he tempts both her physically and spiritually, as when he suggests that her goodness would save him:

[St. Elmo] If I am ever to be saved, you, you only can effect my redemption; for I trust, I reverence you. Edna, as you value my soul, my eternal welfare, give yourself to me! Give your pure, sinless life to purify mine." [...]

[Edna] "No! no! I am no vicegerent of an outraged and insulted God! I put no faith in any man whose conscience another keeps. From the species of fascination which you exert, I shrink with unconquerable dread and aversion, and would almost as soon entertain the thought of marrying Lucifer himself. Oh! your perverted nature shocks, repels, astonishes, grieves me. I can neither respect nor trust you. Mr. Murray, have mercy upon yourself! Go yonder to Jesus. He only can save and purify you." (my emphasis)

Edna later explains a little more about the 'fascination' which he exerts: 'it is not love; for esteem, respect, confidence, belong to love. But I can not deny that he exerts a very singular, a wicked fascination over me.' Mr Hammond, the local minister, urges Edna to agree to a marriage, since then she will, as a good wife, have an immense influence over St. Elmo:

My dear little Edna, you are very lovely and winning, and I believe he would love you as he never loved any one else. Oh! I have hoped everything from your influence! Far, far beyond all computation is the good which a pious, consistent, Christian wife can accomplish in the heart of a husband who truly loves her. (my emphasis)

Again, I think, rather obliquely, Mr Hammond is alluding to the fact that St. Elmo feels considerably more than a simple delight in Edna's spiritual purity. Fekete Trubey states that

Edna’s relationship with St. Elmo is driven by the [...] erotics of domination and submission [...]. It is when St. Elmo is at his most brutal and misogynistic, demanding complete submission to his cruel will, that Edna feels the greatest desire for him. She finds him ‘‘handsomer than she had ever seen him,’’ for example, when he claims women know no useful facts, only obscure trivia (SE, 113) (Fekete Trubey 2005: 130)

And yet Edna resists her sensuality and even shuns the company of individuals whose use of language she deems indelicate:

Edna's abhorrence of double entendre and of the fashionable sans souci style of conversation [...] was not a secret to any one who read her writings or attended her receptions. [...]

She saw that the growing tendency to free and easy manners and colloquial license was rapidly destroying all reverence for womanhood; was levelling the distinction between ladies' parlors and gentlemen's clubrooms; was placing the sexes on a platform of equality which was dangerous to feminine delicacy, that God-built bulwark of feminine purity and of national morality.

That time-honored maxim, "Honi soit qui mal y pense," she found had been distorted from its original and noble significance, and was now a mere convenient India-rubber cloak, stretched at will to cover and excuse allusions which no really modest woman could tolerate. Consequently, when she heard it flippantly pronounced in palliation of some gross offense against delicacy, she looked more searchingly into the characters of the indiscreet talkers, and quietly intimated to them that their presence was not desired at her receptions. Believing that modesty and purity were twin sisters, and that vulgarity and vice were rarely if ever divorced, Edna sternly refused to associate with those whose laxity of manners indexed, in her estimation, a corresponding laxity of morals.

According to Hilary Hart, Edna becomes increasingly pure as she struggles against her physical attraction to St. Elmo: 'Her victories over her love for the Byronic St. Elmo seem to purify Edna, as evidenced by her increasing whiteness' (2004: 35).*

In addition to the usual ups and downs of falling in love, the hero and/or heroine must overcome a spiritual obstacle, whether that involves finding God's salvation, learning to lean on Him, letting go of the past, etc.

Christian women find inspirational romance novels satisfying because they promote strong family values, emphasizing admirable qualities such as duty, honor, and integrity, all while delivering the guilt-free entertainment of a chaste romance story.

It seems to me that novels such as St. Elmo are the precursors of the modern inspirational romance, for though the modern romances may not include such large, undiluted passages devoted to theology as Evans' novel does, they, like St. Elmo, tend to be love stories with a very strong spiritual element and in which there is little or no depiction of sexuality, although sexual tension may be present. In addition, as we see in Brenda's description of the sub-genre, both have a didactic nature: they are, of course intended to entertain, but there is also a strong desire on the part of the authors to promote particular spiritual values. Faith, Hope and Love, the 'inspirational outreach chapter' of the Romance Writers of America has in its bylaws the statement that: "The purpose of Faith, Hope & Love, Inc., is to promote excellence in romantic and women's fiction that glorifies God and promotes biblical principles' (my emphasis). Evans and Edna might, however, view edgy inspirationals with a bit more caution. These novels are also written for Christian readers, but ones

who don’t necessarily want a conversion scene in every novel they read, yet who also don’t want to read about mainstream characters who live outside the reader’s value system. They are looking for a compelling, gritty novel about Christians who are flawed, tempted, imperfect and who willfully do things they know they aren’t suppose to do. Who have already accepted Christ and are wondering, "Then why the heck is my life so messed up?" They are looking for a character whose shoes they can slip on. Maybe even a novel that they can share with their non-Christian friend. (Deeanne Gist)

Hart, Hilary, 2004. Sentimental Spectacles: the Sentimental Novel, Natural Language, and Early Film Performance, University of Oregon theses, Dept. of English, Ph.D. (can be downloaded as a pdf from here).

* The whiteness is physical as well as metaphorical: 'Edna’s skin grows whiter as the book progresses so that by the end she retains almost no human coloring. Not surprisingly, Augusta Evans, who wrote St. Elmo, also authored the white supremacist novel, Macaria, or, Altars of Sacrifice'. (Hart 2004: 34)

Thanks, Sarah. I posted this and then realised that going directly from Edna 'Modesty and Purity' Earl to the next subject I was thinking of blogging about would indeed be a bit of jump. So I've thought of another subject to blog about first, to bridge the gap.

I've been wanting a good definition of "sentimental novel". Derek Royal's definition (in your first post about St Elmo) opens some fascinating cans of worms. Part of his description of inducing emotion expresses something that I criticized (as a "wallowing" that didn't further the plot movement) in Megan Hart's Broken. Nice to have a different framework for discussing that issue, as it's one that crops up frequently in romance novels.

I'm glad you liked it. As you can see from the comments on that thread, though, Sarah was concerned about the comparison between modern romances and the sentimental novels because she didn't think it would help raise the academic standing of the romances. I suppose that as I (a) haven't knowingly read (m)any of the sentimental novels and (b) didn't have any preconceptions about them, I was simply comparing the disparaging comments made about both genres and saw similarities.

I think the blanket criticisms made of romance are unjustified, and I wonder how fair many of the criticism of the sentimental novels really were/are. That's not to say that one can't find 'wallowing' in both genres, because I'm sure one can, but just as all romances aren't the same, I suspect that there was variation between the different sentimental novels too and, of course, one person's 'wallow' may be another person's 'emotional depth' in either genre. As you say in your review of Broken, for some people 'a book that makes you cry is automatically "great"'.

Thanks for pointing out the earlier comments. You'd had some interesting discussion!

comparing the disparaging comments made about both genres and saw similarities

Very much so.

Sarah was concerned about the comparison between modern romances and the sentimental novels because she didn't think it would help raise the academic standing of the romances.... one person's 'wallow' may be another person's 'emotional depth'

Not all romance novels (individual books) should have their academic standing raised. I think it does more to raise the standing of the romance genre--and is more realistic/less "rabid fan"ish--to acknowledge that the huge variety within romance. I'm not saying pulp fiction-style romance isn't worth reading, but there are a lot of novels (in any genre) that are more interesting to study in aggregate than as individual works.

However, we should definitely deconstruct those criticisms of "sentimental novels". Some of Royal's language sounds suspiciously like a general rejection of "female themes". (Have you seen Lucy Snyder's extraordinary story about having a "female"-perspective poem rejected? I ranted the other day about it.)

But the criticism isn't necessarily a blanket rejection of a book's themes or emotional focus; it may be that the balance is off in the book as a whole. For example, in Broken I thought each "wallowing" scene was in itself well written; and I'm not one to complain that a scene is too intense, too erotic, too emotional. But overall the amount of space devoted to evoking those emotions--in the same way every time--made for a static, repetitive read.

My criticism of "too much emotion" is focused on the crafting of the novel. I think that's different from Sarah Frantz's description of the "18thC (in UK, later for the US) version of sentiment and sensibility... the books whose heroines faint all over the place and focus on the sorrows and pains of a sparrow to the exclusion of understanding the day-to-day life of suffering of their servants and/or slaves." The critique of "too much emotion" in these 18thC books sounds partly moral and partly about a self-centered character it's hard to like.

Not all romance novels (individual books) should have their academic standing raised.

No, of course not. But in terms of the romance genre as a whole and the perception of it as 'trash', 'fluff' and 'porn for women', the problem with comparing it to another primarily female-authored and denigrated genre is that it doesn't do anything to improve the status of either.

I think it does more to raise the standing of the romance genre--and is more realistic/less "rabid fan"ish--to acknowledge that the huge variety within romance. I'm not saying pulp fiction-style romance isn't worth reading, but there are a lot of novels (in any genre) that are more interesting to study in aggregate than as individual works.

Yes, and this also describes the two directions one gets pulled in when trying to study the genre in a non-judgemental, yet generally positive way. On the one hand you can pick out examples of 'the best' but if you just do that, they might end up being seen as 'not really romance'. So you also have to look at how they fit within the genre's traditions, and increase understanding of the genre's traditions, conventions etc and that leads to studying romances "in aggregate". And yet, you have to do that without suggesting that all romances are the same.

I took a look at what you'd said about Lucy Snyder, and I've replied to the specific issues in the comments to your post, but yes, I do think the fact that the authors are mainly female does play a role in the perception of these genres.

I've not read Broken, so I can't comment on it specifically. I have read some books where I've been moved emotionally, but rather against my will, as I felt I was being emotionally manipulated. I'm not quite sure how the authors managed to simultaneously tug on my heart-strings and annoy me, but they did. I think it was maybe because they really dwelt on the emotion and/or because it felt like the plot was being obliged to make pathos pit-stops every few chapters.

comparing it to another primarily female-authored and denigrated genre... doesn't do anything to improve the status of either.

I take your point. "Earwigs only superficially resemble cockroaches" doesn't really boost the image of the earwig.

you can pick out examples of 'the best' but if you just do that, they might end up being seen as 'not really romance'.

That's a real conundrum. I would describe much of my reading as romantic, but I'm pretty sure RWA would disagree. And so might others--if romance is defined by what's most visible in the grocery store bookracks. So my "best of" list would disappoint many romance readers.

I've been moved emotionally, but rather against my will, as I felt I was being emotionally manipulated. I'm not quite sure how the authors managed to simultaneously tug on my heart-strings and annoy me, but they did. I think it was maybe because they really dwelt on the emotion and/or because it felt like the plot was being obliged to make pathos pit-stops every few chapters.

That's a good description of some of the writing styles that I describe as "wallowing"; I think that's part of the reason that romance gets called "emotional pornography".